Rhialla's Journal
Rhialla's Journal Thanks to Rhialla Arken, who keeps a journal while she is on adventures, the exploits and experiences of the Company of the Tabby Cat are recorded for thefuture. ='Journal Entries'= __TOC__ 'Entry 1: Vodensday, Ambran 5th, 447 DE' Every once in a while the heavens reach down and bestow a moment to the mortals of the earth, this is something my first gallery matron said, and has been repeated by every matron since. The moment can be one of beauty, fear, or most often clarity. Yesterday, while enjoying an evening meal served by the distant eyed Jabela I received my first true moment of clarity, and I was so thrilled to know it was Larafae that gifted it. The moment came from a percussive performance by a Bhalur Blackthorn, a Bhakiri and his dragon friend Shaer. Normally music in out of the way places like Jabela's Taphall, while pleasant, is uninspired, just a parroted version of the original. But Bhalur's performance was a gift from Lady Larafae herself. Such a great performance rivaled even the highest if royal courts. Larafae's love and guidance takes many forms, and I am sure anyone of the Loving Lady's faith would agree, this was a moment of clarity. I was to travel with Bhalur and his companions to Dalkalar. When I approached Bhalur and his companions at their table to introduce myself, I could tell they were suspicious or at least taken aback by my forwardness. Many often are, sigh. Bhalur Blackthorn and his black dragon familiar are servants of the Dragon Matron, acolytes to be more precise. Bhalur's companions are Magnes Coalbrow, a Dhouvarr coniseur of beer, ale, and pretty much anything alcohol, Sabrik another bhakiri but this one honoring the code of beasts and his beastrider order, Koija, an Ikaiji I believe, an impressive and lethal weaver, and Kevroth a shy but disciplined gunfighter. Bhalur through his mere presence seems to guide the eb and flow of the others, and his inquisitive nature drove most of our first converstation, and Sabrik a bit impatient, but his energy is contagious in a good way. Magnes was friendly as well, in his way, although he seemed a bit somber about the job his companions had accepted. Supposedly they accepted a job from a nobleman concerned for his daughter's well being, or more bluntly, to kill another man that his daughter might be in love with. Without context, it would appear like Bhalur and his companions were no better than mercenaries looking to get paid. As I spoke with them in length, I felt that they were only planning to act on the job if their employer's suspicions, of his daughter being ensorcelled or bewitched into loving the man they were to kill, were true. When I figured that out, I understood Magnes's disposition. With my news that quite a few people in Dalkalar have been missing, and Jabela's rumor of a cult there, I felt their motivation was improved and they were more compelled to continue with their task, if only to put the worrisome thoughts to ease by proving everything nothing more than rumor. That was yesterday, and with the coming of Abalor's sun, Bhalur and his companions had agreed to let me travel with them. Thank the Loving Lady's divine grace that they agreed, not more than a couple hours from the inn, we were set upon by a dire wolf. The massive wolf would have made dinner out of a lone traveler. I know this because Sabrik only hesitated a moment as he thought on what to do in regards to his order's tenants, and in a flash the wolf had pulled Sabrik off his horse with teeth gnashing ferociously. Thankfully Magnes was quick to react and draw the beast away from Sabrik. As the wolf went for Magnes it was impaled to death, but not without leaving Magnes with a painful parting gift. The day has barely just started, and I can tell Larafae is already watching over me. I promise I will not fail in whatever divine purpose I am to serve; of this I must be certain. 'Entry 2: Vodensday, Ambran 5th, 447 DE 2nd entry' Today has been more turbulent then the late fall storms of the south. After only a few hours of our journey toward Dalkalar, we encountered a group of hobgoblin warriors that had idled too long after setting up camp, or at least I think it was a makeshift camp. I felt in my heart their sinister intent, their hatred of beauty, and their desire to disrupt peace. I snuck up their camp, and offered them a chance to surrender or be shown no quarter of mercy in refusing. The hobgoblins chose poorly, as I knew their egos and hate would not allow for a peaceful resolution. I acted impulsively, and perhaps did not think as long as I should have about the situation. They outnumbered us, and were well equipped, but with my new companions I knew strategic control over their position would tip things in our favor. Blessed Larafae, thank you for the divine guidance you granted me in facing them down. I hope the world is a more beautiful place without their ill intent plaguing the lands. Beneath the tower, Fort Lonbrac, where the hobgoblins were, there was the ruins of a dungeon. The prisoner kind of dungeon, and although we were all eager to explore it, the skirmish with the hobgoblins left many of our number weary and too wounded to press on to explore it to completion. Then there was the Three Tusk Boar Inn. It is hard to explain the experience but simply put, the past mingled with the present gifting us the chance to relive the past, but with all the wisdom and knowledge we have today. I do not know who gifted it, perhaps the divine, maybe it was merely an anomaly, or perhaps something sinister was at play. All I know is Sabrik, the impulsive Bhakiri warrior, would have none of it. I almost wish I knew what drives the man, but when he attacked the bartender in an attempt to disrupt the past's present nature, everything came tumbling down; all we were left with, was ruin and loneliness. I might understand his desire to spare his allies from being bewitched or possessed, but brazenly acting with violence, without telling anyone first, makes me question the trust I allowed him. Now I worry he will do the same again; next time it might not be a ghost. I do not know if I can bare the guilt when he finally does murder an innocent because of his senselessness. Perhaps sleeping on the floor tonight will prepare me for the cold reality when that day comes. 'Entry 3: Mootday, Ambran 7th 447 DE' A letter to Matron Sereniti of Lady Larafae at the Grand Gallery Matron Sereniti. I write you Matron Sereniti in the wake of a great calamity, but the news I bare is of hope, joy, and return to peace. You sent me to Dalkalar at the request that someone of Larafae’s follwing look into the rumors spreading from Dalkalar. As you know, several months ago, word of Dalkalar’s disappearances and reports of Bael’s White Watcher appearing had many concerned. Shortly after the sightings started, people began to disappear. We discovered that a a priest by the name of Deldenion Smiran claimed that Bael’s White Watcher came bringing only death, a death that could only be staved off through proper tribute and worship. By the time I arrived in Dalkalar, twenty people in total had gone missing. The fear was palpable amongst the town, the disappearances were not slowing even though most of the town was following Smiran’s directions. The people had looked for the missing everywhere, everywhere except Blackrose, where no one either dared to go, or ever returned from. So I, along with several capable warriors looking to collect on a bounty for one or two of people among the missing, ventured to Blackrose to investigate. Blackrose’s groundkeeper’s fate was the first to be discovered, he was murdered by the creatures that dwell within the castle. The rest of the missing were discovered not within Blackrose, but beneath the structure, within the Darkendeep. I do not know if it was the Darkendeep that found its way to the castle or if the previous castle’s lord had found his way down. What I do know is that this is where we also discovered that Deldenion Smiran was not a true priest of Bael. He was a wolf in sheeps clothing taking full advantage of the town’s fear. Smiran was a follower of Ykthra, a creature that feasted on pain and suffering emotions. Smiran was using his true form to trick observers into thinking he was the White Watcher, and using his human form to trick the townspeople into doing his bidding under the pretenses of serving Bael. With the help of his Morlock minions, Smiran’s ruse amounted to abducting townspeople to feed to Ykthra and the Morlocks. The morlocks and Smiran were slain, and the Ykthra fled after suffering a great deal of fatal wounding in a series of confrontations. We discovered the deceased had been eaten by the morlocks, but a remaining twelve people were rescued and safely returned to their homes in Dalkalar. My companions found their bounty, a dhampir named Greven Blackrose, and Lady Galtroban, but they have not been willing to discuss their intentions of what to do with the forlorn lovers. Greven claims to be the rightful heir to the Blackrose estate, but I do not know for certain how the laws honor contractual obligations when the previous owner was an undead vampire. My companions are mostly good at heart, if not a bit misguided, but I think they will make the right choice, even when I myself have some doubts on the right course of action. Matron Sereniti, could you assign someone to look into all matters involving the late Blackrose and his son Greven Blackrose? I would appreciate any and all guidance you have pertaining to letting a dhampir claim a vampire’s inheritance which would include land, title, and the right to rule over Dalkalar. I have seen no evil within his or his lover’s heart but without something to promote good will between Greven and the people of Dalkalar I fear this town may be at risk. Peace, Love, and Joy, Rhialla Arken 'Entry 4: Myrnday, Thaal 10th, 447 DE' The stream of thought and anxiety to a river of fear and violence. It has been months since I last picked up this journal to record my thoughts and feelings during my adventures. The regular business of attending Loving Lady’s temple and attendants regularly provides a number of opportunities whenever a sympathetic ear to confess the frustrations and concerns of the day as they occur. Life of on the road is a different matter. The isolation removes all regular contact with friends, family, associates, loved ones and even one’s bittersweet enemies. True enough I travel with some friends, Magnes, Bhalur, Kevroth; actually they are more becoming family with each passing day, it is a family built on trust forged in battle. In addition to the few familiar faces there is also Girian and Ornathals as well that have joined us from''' Avalath''' as we continue to seek out and rescue Illysari and possibly her guide Wimbley. Girian is a soldier with a talent for manipulating the flux. I was not excited when Magnes first introduced and invited Girian to join us, but after the bugbears I think I have come to realize that the world already struggles enough with hesitation and troubled alliances. I will not contribute to the problem. Fast friends will need to act quickly and decisively, no matter the cost. Ornthalas is the most capable guide I could find at a moment’s notice to lead us through the Waeldwild; his experience is well worth the price, I only hope we have enough money to pay him when the job is done. The bugbears at Mythril Keep; every fiber of my upbringing has me reeling against the thought that something so twisted and evil could possibly even exist, and in such numbers! My father led countless battles against the bugbear clans of my younger years and despite the countless numbers that were piled up and burned in the aftermath, they never relent. Proof of their relentless found today where six bugbears were preparing their meal from the remains of a Waeld-woman. My companions seem so at ease with it as if it were common place in their day to day business, but the sight, the mere thought of it, wretches my stomach. I hope Magnes doesn’t notice that I haven’t touched his meal, my mind knows it probably delicious, but I can barely tolerate the smell. While my companions put on strong faces, I know it disturbs them deeply, and yet here I am spilling out my thoughts in my journal instead of confiding in them in hopes that I find comfort with my self-imposed isolation. I must do this because they need to know that they can rely on me. I do this, because I could not stand the sight of what the bugbears had done. The others probably thought I was callous, but in all honesty, I’ve never been so beside myself as when I chose to interrogate the last bugbear before ending its despicable existence instead of collecting the poor woman’s remains. To my companions I am thankful that they could do right by the woman, as to myself, I am shaken at the core. The bugbears were easy enough to defeat with the advantage of surprise, as most cases are when two evenly matched sides face off. The bugbear we captured did shed light on who he was and who his tribe were, but brazenly taunted us with promises of a grim future. The future he spoke of echoed Bhalur’s warnings of similar events to the southwest the day before we began this little adventure. I suspect that the Bherug tribe causing so much trouble in the waelds has allied with the bugbear’s Broken Skull tribe in an act of desperation as the Griffon forces presence closes in on them. The bugbears are rarely so organized to ally with each other let alone anyone within Andara without something greater and more terrifying than themselves to force them into action, and so I suspect Bhalur’s warnings of an alliance between two warlords of the monstrous nations and one of the immortal dragons is either just now beginning to reap its rewards or will soon bear witness to the results. I suspect the years of thinking our efforts have been sufficient in staving off disaster, has made us blind to the changing evolution of things. I only hope we are ready, hope that I am ready, when the time to be judged comes. War or even worse is coming. __FORCETOC__ __NOEDITSECTION__